


Tricycle

by CloudAtlas



Series: Promptathon 2015 [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Eventual - i.e. very far down the road - Clint/Laura/Natasha, Female Friendship, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudAtlas/pseuds/CloudAtlas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: <i>Clint/Natasha miiight be Laura's fault. A little bit. Maybe. (And she is NOT the least bit sorry about that.)</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Laura knows that expression simply because she herself wears it so often.</p>
<p>Falling for Clint Barton has its own particular facial expression – fond and exasperated and slightly sappy all at once. Though to be fair, on Natasha it's more exasperated than sappy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tricycle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CyberMathWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberMathWitch/gifts).



> Thank you to **scribble_myname** for the fastest beta in history. (Back to me in 20mins. Like _magic_.)
> 
>  
> 
>   
> _\-- Well you know what I mean, she spoke into my hair. -- Who needs a third wheel?_  
>  \-- A tricycle, I whispered back, smacking a kiss on her cheek.  
> [ [Born Confused, Tanuja Desai Hidier](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Born_Confused) ]

Laura watches Natasha watch Clint leave for the kitchen. For all her subtlety and skills, right now Laura can read the emotions on her face like a book. Natasha would probably be worried about that, would fear her skills were slipping and that she was getting sloppy, but she's not. 

Laura knows that expression simply because she herself wears it so often.

Falling for Clint Barton has its own particular facial expression – fond and exasperated and slightly sappy all at once. Though to be fair, on Natasha it's more exasperated than sappy.

"Do you know what I think?" Laura says, and she gets a small thrill from making Natasha jump. Getting the drop on her is an event so rare, Clint has a set of gold stars along the bathroom mirror documenting the few times he's managed. Laura’s sure she has some little blue stickers of her own somewhere; maybe she'll start adding her own to the tally.

"What?" Natasha asks, her expression immediately smoothing out until no trace of that familiar expression is left.

"Take him to that fake sixties diner he likes so much," Laura says. "Wear that red shirt of yours and some beautiful lingerie. Buy him a whiskey, show some cleavage and then go neck in the toilets. He's a simple guy. He'd enjoy that."

As Laura speaks, Natasha's eyes narrow dangerously until she's glaring. "You're really not funny."

Laura raises an eyebrow. 

"I'm really not joking," she says, in the voice she reserves for people when they're missing the point. 

Shock registers momentarily on Natasha's face, but it's gone in a flash, replaced instead with a flat, angry expression.

"Right," she says shortly, standing up with tension thrumming through every line of her body. "I'm leaving."

Maybe it would have been easier to let Clint handle this. But then again, there's no better way to convince someone that the third party is alright with something like this than it coming from the third party themselves.

Plus Clint would probably fuck it up. Laura loves him, but God can he be an idiot. Not, Laura concedes, that she herself has started particularly well in this instance.

"Natasha," Laura says gently, reaching out to place her hand on Natasha's forearm. "It's okay. I promise."

Natasha stills immediately, though she doesn't relax and her avoidance of Laura's eyes is the clearest indication yet that Laura is absolutely right about this.

Not that she needed more proof than the barrage of sexual tension that invades her home every now and again. She and Clint were trying to let it happen naturally – an admirable effort on Clint's part, considering how much of a flirt he can be – but eventually it became apparent that some sort of invitation needed to be extended, and they'd decided that it would be better coming from her.

"So you'd just let him go?" Natasha sneers, confrontational and, in Laura's opinion, deliberately missing the point.

"Did I say that?" she asks mildly, rather than rolling her eyes at Natasha's uncharacteristic wilful stupidity. She knows this is difficult; hell, hers and Clint’s first few conversations about this had been prickly and awkward, and they’d  _known_ what they were getting themselves in for. 

Natasha looks mulishly down at the floor, and it's so childish and cute that Laura has to restrain herself from ruffling her hair.

"Look," she says, sliding her hand down until she can hold Natasha's, fingers tangling together and Laura's thumb rubbing over the back of her hand. "You favour directness so I’ll just come out with it. You make Clint ridiculously happy and that makes me happy. You can look after him when I can't, be there for him when I can't, and he can do the same for you."

Laura draws her down until they're sat back on the couch, and she tilts her head until she can look Natasha in the eye.

"We've talked about this," she says gently. "Me and Clint. About what he wants and what I want and what we think will work, but you don't have to do anything; if this isn't what you want, then that's fine. But you're already closer to both me and Clint than any 'normal' friend of a married couple." The quotation marks are evident, even if Laura doesn't want to let go long enough to actually make them. "To both me and Clint, this feels like this could be… a natural progression. It feels like it could work, and if you think so as well, we want you to know that the opportunity is open to you."

Natasha looks apprehensive and while she doesn't remove her hands from Laura's, her shoulders tense and she seems to collapse in on herself for a moment.

"You're not jealous?" Natasha asks eventually, voice quiet but even.

"Honey," Laura says fondly, tipping her head up so they can look each other in the eye. "What will actually change?" She smiles softly. "If the two of you aren't here for your downtime, you're together in one of your boltholes around the world. You're with Clint at SHIELD where, I have it on good authority, everyone thinks you're either already in a relationship or at least definitely fucking. And maybe I was jealous of that when I first heard about it, but I got over it."

She strokes Natasha's cheek. "If it happens, there'll be rough patches for sure, but that's true of any relationship. The largest change will be that you'll get to kiss Clint, which I can assure you is a wonderful experience, and you can sleep with him if you want to, which is also a wonderful experience. Though I imagine that the two of you together will be much more athletic than anything I could manage."

Natasha looks at her then. "You imagine me and Clint having sex?"

Laura grins.

"I imagine you and Clint having sex being hotter than porn," she says in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Natasha snorts, saying “That’s not hard,” and smiling at her, though it fades quickly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Laura assures her, "we are."

“No,” Natasha says, shaking her head, "I'm asking about _you_."

"Then yes," Laura amends. "I am sure."

Laura pulls at Natasha until she's leaning against her, her head tucked under her chin, and Natasha huffs out a laugh against her collarbone.

"This isn't what I imagined for myself as a child," Natasha says softly after a while.

Laura imagines that's an understatement of huge proportions, but she understands what she means.

"Trust me," Laura says, laughing a little. "Neither did I."

She and Clint could hardly be described as a normal couple – illustrated pretty succinctly by Laura occasionally fantasising about her husband sleeping with his best friend – but just because this would have been incomprehensible to a younger Laura doesn't mean that she regrets it for a minute; not the laughter, not the injury, not the occasional terrible fear. Getting to have Natasha around _more_ – to be able to hug her in the mornings and watch her make Clint smile – would make it all the better.

Laura really hopes she decides to take the plunge.

"Can I think about it?" Natasha asks eventually and Laura pulls back to look at her incredulously.

"Of course you can," she insists. "You take as long as you need. That's the whole point. You get to choose. I'm just pointing out a door you perhaps didn't know was available to you."

Natasha nods against her, biting her lip slightly in indecision, something she only does when she's comfortable around someone, and something Laura knows Clint finds unbearably attractive. "Can I think here?"

Laura laughs, and the movement causes Natasha's loose curls to bounce.

"If it helps, then sure." She curls her finger around a lock of Natasha's hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

Laura isn't sure what Clint is cooking, but they sit on the couch for at least another half hour before Clint's voice drifts from the kitchen telling them dinner is ready. They pull apart, getting up off the couch and stretching slightly.

Natasha stops Laura a moment with a hand on her wrist.

"You're really okay with this?" She asks again, but her voice holds a different note than before. Laura tries not to be too hopeful.

"Have you come to a decision already?" Laura says with a smile.

"Sort of," Natasha says. "I dunno. Maybe. I need more time but I… just want to be sure."

"I am okay with this," Laura assures her again. "We are okay with this. If you decide to go for it, Clint especially will be very okay with this."

Natasha smile at her, half unsure but half teasing as well. 

"And," Laura says leaning in conspiratorially just before entering the kitchen, "if you do go through with it, I want to let you know that if I don't get at least one complaint from Nick Fury, I will assume you're doing it wrong."

"Laura!" Natasha hisses, hilariously scandalised for the normally unflappable Black Widow, elbowing her in the ribs before laughing. " _Seriously_?"

"Yeah, seriously," Laura says, grinning. "Clint and I have been thrown out of the Louvre and the Museo Nacional de Anthropología. You have a tradition to uphold."

Natasha laughs delightedly as Laura pulls her into the kitchen and, as Laura watches Natasha steal more than her average number of glances at Clint, she is confident in the fact that she's in the process of facilitating delightful levels of indiscretion and fraternisation in the New York SHIELD HQ. And she can't find it in herself to be anything other than stupidly pleased with herself.


End file.
